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I looked at him and sighed. I remembered his words: he’d fallen for me.
He’d washed me, fed me, and changed me. He dealt with Mandy’s calls when we got back. He made arrangements—for everything. I wasn’t able to feel. I’d just…checked out.
And Tray had stepped in my place.
I ran my hand through his hair, feeling its softness, and trailed my fingers down his shoulder, his arm, and reached for his hand.
Tray looked up and gave me a small smile, before kissing my hand. Then he let our hands rest in his lap, where he was tracing my palm with his fingers.
I felt Geezer squeeze my hand again and I heard him draw in his breath. He was pale, trying to hold his emotions back.
I don’t know what inspired me, but I leaned over and kissed his cheek. I whispered, “Brian’s in a better place now.”
Geezer’s tear-filled eyes met mine as he listened.
I added, “We’re the ones who gotta pick it up. Bri’s gone,” my voice broke, “But he’s better than us.”
His tears fell and Geezer didn’t even try to brush them away as he squeezed my hand tighter.
I heard the pastor again. He was saying it is not that trouble
does not come our way, it is that we can overcome it when it does come our way. And so we lift our prayers up…and God is with us.
I was done crying.
I’d shed my well, but I sighed anyway, knowing I’d be crying if they’d been there.
Tray sat up and drew me against his chest, his arms encircled me, and he kissed my cheek, while continuing to hold my hand.
*
When we filed out, Tray led the way with Geezer right behind me. We stood off to side, waiting for the processional to leave, for the casket to be raised and carried out.
I hadn’t realized who we were standing next to, but I felt someone reach out and touch my arm. Looking back, I saw Gentley with Kimberly.
He nodded to Tray, then looked at me, and murmured, “I’m sorry, Taryn.”
He sounded sincere.
Kimberly smiled, a soft, sad smile, and murmured, “I’m sorry too, Taryn.” Behind her was Crystal. She nodded to Tray and then hugged me. I was surprised, but I returned the hug.
A feeling of gratefulness came over me.
As we stood there waiting, more and more people came up to me and repeated their sympathies.
I felt like a widower—that my other half died, leaving me bereft—but it wasn’t true. I thanked God that I had a chance to say goodbye to Brian—literally and spiritually.
When the casket came out, I watched Jace, in the front end as he passed by.
He turned and met my gaze. His eyes were empty—there was nothing there—no emotion.
But then again, maybe that’s what he saw in mine.
As they walked on and around to the cemetery. We all filed along, gathering around as the pastor said another prayer. Brian was joining the earth. His body was here, his soul with God.
Jace stood to the side as the casket was lowered, and then covered with the earth’s ground. His aunt and cousin both threw roses in, while Brian’s father stood stoically beside his eldest son.
His favorite son in the ground. His favored son in the dirt.
